


The National Gobstones Convention

by FireOpal (Sandel)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandel/pseuds/FireOpal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Newly minted journalist Ginny Potter reluctantly reports on The National Gobstones Convention.</p>
  <p>---</p>
  <p>Written for the Game On Volume II Collab over at harrypotterfanfiction.com, as part of the 2015 House Cup.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	The National Gobstones Convention

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>  Banner by amoretti at The Dark Arts forums.

_At age eleven, I fought Lord Voldemort for control of my body for almost a year._  
  
_At age fourteen, I fought in the battle at the Department of Mysteries._  
  
_At age fifteen I fought in the battle of the Astronomy Tower._  
  
_At age sixteen I fought in the Last Battle of the second war against Voldemort._  
  
_At age eighteen I got a place on the Holyhead Harpies team._  
  
_At age nineteen I married Harry Potter, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord._  
  
_At age twenty-one, I played for England in the Quidditch World Cup._  
  
_At age twenty-two I became a mother to James Sirius Potter._  
  
_At age twenty-three I’m writing my first article for the Daily Prophet… about Gobstones._

* * *

“Er, Ginny, you do realise that you can’t actually start your article like this?” Hermione asked from her hotel bed, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Hermione was the only one of Ginny’s friends who’d agreed to come with her to the National Gobstones Convention. (Ginny suspected that it had more to do with Hermione really needing a break from all that legislative work than her having any hidden love for Gobstones.)  
  
Ginny shrugged.  
  
“Why not? It’s not like anyone will care about it anyway.”  
  
Hermione made an odd sound as if she was about to start tut-ing, but stopped herself just in time.  
  
“Maybe the convention will be more interesting than you think?” she said, _almost_ managing an authentically upbeat tone.  
  
Ginny walked over to inspect the Muggle hotel’s mini bar. She thought she had a decent understanding of Muggles and their manners, but sometimes only the distaste of sounding like her father stopped her from exclaiming ‘The things those Muggles come up with!’.  
  
Instead she said:  
  
“Come on, ‘Mione, how interesting do you think it’ll be? Gobstones is a children’s game. What newsworthiness could there possibly be? Maybe someone’s come up with an even more putrid concoction to put in them?”  
  
“Hm, I’ll make sure to mention that idea to Ron. That could be something for ‘Wheezes’.”  
  
That awful attempt at a joke only earned Hermione a look of utter disappointment from Ginny.  
  
“It isn’t even a tourney,” Ginny sulked. “Who cares about a convention!?”  
  
“Well, at least you can buy Harry that solid gold set he’s always wanted…”  
  
At that, Ginny couldn’t help but snigger.  
  
“True,” she said. “And it’s a shame James is too young to play… But anyway, we should get some sleep. We’ll have to be up early so we don’t miss anything at the convention tomorrow!”  
  
With those words Ginny walked over to the door separating her and Hermione’s rooms in the hotel suite.  
  
“That’s the spirit. Good night!” Hermione yelled after her.

* * *

The next day the two friends arrived to the Convention Hall – a conference hall in the Muggle hotel they were staying in – at nine in the morning.  
  
“Ah, Ms Potter!” the witch at the welcoming desk exclaimed, smiling.  
  
She handed Ginny a badge that read ‘Ginevra Potter, reporter, The Daily Prophet.’  
  
Ginny thanked her, but the witch had already turned to Hermione instead.  
  
“And you are…?” The witch was clearly disappointed that Ginny hadn’t brought her famous husband as her ‘plus one’.  
  
“Hermione Granger,” Hermione said with all the authority she could muster. “I’m the… photographer?”  
  
“Yeah, sure, that works,” Ginny laughed, grabbing the camera from her bag and tossing it to her bushy-haired friend (who almost didn’t catch it – Ginny often found herself forgetting that not everybody had her Quidditch-honed reflexes).  
  
Then she dragged Hermione past the welcoming desk and into the convention hall.  
  
In the hall there were people everywhere, setting up stands for selling Gobstones-related paraphernalia. Ginny picked up a leaflet titled _Gobstone Goop Gobblers – You’re not alone in relishing the taste of losing_. Reading that made her wince so hard that she stumbled into an ongoing game of Gobstones.  
  
And that meant that she got a chance to reaffirm that she wasn’t one of the people who enjoyed the taste of Gobstone liquid, because all the little marbles immediately turned on her and sprayed all their slime on her, presumably as a punishment for ruining the game.  
  
‘ _Of course_ ,’ Ginny thought to herself. ‘ _Of course this happens. This whole assignment is a joke from start to finish._ ’  
  
“Hey, you messed up the game!” came a squeaky voice as Ginny wiped slimy goop from her eyes with a non-verbal Tergeo (she didn’t want to open her mouth).  
  
When she had gotten enough of the slime off her face to dare to open her eyes, Ginny found herself looking down at two very angry, very small faces.  
  
“Yes, I did,” she said. “And I’m sorry. Here, I’ll fill up your stones again.”  
  
She waved her wand over the disrupted game, and the marbles wiggled in place and slurped as they were filled with new liquid.  
  
“Thanks!” the kids chorused.  
  
Ginny was just about to leave when an idea hit her. She kneeled down on the floor so she was face to face with the children.  
  
“Actually, can I ask you a few questions about Gobstones?” she asked.  
  
The kids said yes, and were very forthcoming and enthusiastic in their answers. Hermione just stood looking on, until Ginny hissed:  
  
“Psst, come on ‘Mione, are you my photographer or not?”  
  
“Oh, right,” Hermione said, and she whipped out the camera and began taking pictures.  
  
“Thank you both very much,” Ginny said to the kids at last. “I’ll make you my main feature in my article in the Prophet.”  
  
“We’ll be in the Prophet?” the slightly larger child exclaimed. “Wicked!”  
  
The boys high fived each other, then Ginny, and then Hermione. Then they scoped up their Gobstones and ran off in the direction of two adults who Ginny assumed where their parents. All the way they chanted “We’ll be in the Prophet, we’ll be in the Prophet!”  
  
Ginny glanced over at Hermione who was in full swing taking photos of the two triumphant children. When they disappeared behind a stand she put down the camera and turned to look straight at Ginny.  
  
“Soo…?” she said.  
  
Ginny couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“Okay, you’re right. Maybe some people will actually care about my article.”  
  
Hermione smiled back, and with a wink she repeated her all time favourite comment: “I told you so.”  
  
Ginny didn’t begrudge her for it (this time). She just said: “Yeah, yeah… now let’s get my husband that set of golden Gobstones, shall we?” 


End file.
